Anvâr (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} anvar) wrote,@ 2008-02-02 23:55:00 |
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| Entry tags: | au100, in gotham's shadow |
A New Player (Batman Begins AU/ Shadowrun crossover)
Fandom: Batman Begins AU/Shadowrun crossover
Prompt: 075. Shattered
Wordcount: 4434
Beta: by temve, all remaining errors are mine
Summary: In an alternate future the League of Shadows begins the war against a far greater Evil than just civilization.
A New Player
Any other woman attending the party paled in comparison. She was tall and lithe with large green eyes and long, midnight-black hair. Her looks and her smile charmed the men and her voice spellbound the masses. Everything about her was natural, none of her perfection owed to surgery or cosmetics. That was of great importance to him. She complemented his human shape. When he kept his true shape, she was Nadja Daviar, His Voice, who translated his mental speech for the cameras and microphones.
Together they were moving in the rhythm of the tango, impressing and inspiring the other powerful and important men gathered here in the ballroom of the Watergate Hotel. This was his inauguration party and it was only right that he proved to be their leader in dancing as well as in politics.
The various social customs of humanity – many of them unspoken and contrary - amused him often. Nonetheless he adhered to them if they served his needs and plans. So the sudden presence of Carla Brooks, his head of security, at his shoulder in the middle of the dance was a bit surprising.
"Forgiveness, master." The tall, dark-skinned elf murmured in his ear. She didn't waste many words. "It is QuickSilver. Urgent."
"My dear Nadja," he said quietly to his dance partner. "Excuse me. This is a call I have to take without delay." Of course, she gave her assent with a smile. He breathed a kiss on her knuckles as a show of good manners and followed Brooks into a secure conference room. Before its door even closed he noticed the human men crowding around Nadja out of the corner of his eye.
The screen of the telecom unit showed no image although the on light blinked.
"Jane-in-the-Box verified the source and secured the connection. Audio only." Dunkelzahn nodded and Brooks retreated to allow for privacy.
"Ryanthusar?" Dunkelzahn asked while he sat down.
"Master, I need to report. I believe that Aztechnology has found a locus."
Dunkelzahn closed his eyes. No, it is too soon.
"Where are you?"
"San Marcos, forty kilometres beyond the CAS border, south of Austin."
"That is a probable crosspoint," said Dunkelzahn. "What does the object look like?"
With sparse words, his agent gave him the description of a geometrically-shaped, smooth obsidian rock that seemed to absorb the light. Then he moved on to the heavy security and the work teams who worked under the surface of the lake to dig the artefact out. Dunkelzahn's nails scratched over the polished table top while he flexed his hand to release tension. He wished for his claws to shred the wood. His voice, though, remained even.
"Take a quick glance at the aura of the rock, Ryan. Tell me what you see."
Ryan's sharp intake of breath told him much.
"The rock glows in dark indigo, master, and on the surface I can see a network of golden lines. I believe them to be made of orichalcum. But it must an awesome mass if they go through the whole rock like this, master. The lines pulse like a slow heartbeat."
Dunkelzahn could now see the locus before his inner eye. Memories of an earlier age helped him to watch the excavation as if he was standing in Ryan's place. He was honest enough to himself to admit that he was afraid.
I had thought that we, I, still had time, at least a few years. But time has run out. I have no choice.
"Ryan, return immediately and..." He broke off as the speaker transmitted the loud boom of an explosion. For a few long moments only static followed. The sudden fear that his greatest asset in all his contingency plans had been discovered and eliminated engulfed him - and then abated as Ryan's breathless voice reported.
"Master, the site is under attack. The locus... missiles ... damaged... Magical..." The connection broke down in static. Then Jane-in-the-box's image appeared on the display.
"Sir, the line to QuickSilver got jammed. I can't re-connect."
"Brooks," he called, "coordinate our resources with the CIA and military intelligence. I need to know what is happening in San Marco. Immediately."
From one moment to the next the night sky lit up and a massive explosion sent tremors through the tower. Ryan Mercury tightened his grip on the ladder of the old watchtower and tried to spot the source. Several more explosions shook the night. Water and mud fountains burst from the shallow water of the lake. Shrapnel rained onto the workers on land, decimating them. A patrolling helicopter dropped from the sky in flames.
"Master, the site is under attack," he reported tensely. Static came from his small wristphone. He didn't know if his words were still being transmitted. Down by the lake the security forces had gone on alert the minute the explosion had hit. Before they could even identify their attackers, even more rockets found their victims. Small drones appeared and opened fire on the foot troops. Still, the Jaguar Guards were well trained; they dived for cover and returned the fire. It wouldn't take long until they got support from the heavier units stationed at the teocalli.
But the unknown attackers didn't let that stop them, and now threw magic into combat. A wave of spells rained destruction down. Too many came too fast to identify them individually although he didn't doubt their deadliness. Mercury's skin prickled from their power. Spirits of all kinds followed this first wave. Mercury saw two of them literally tearing a mage apart who had projected himself into the astral space.
Hastily he let go of his astral perception. Too much was happening on the astral plane to see details and the spirits might target him too if he continued to do so. On the physical plane, things were heating up too. The bombardment hadn't lessened and was still concentrated on the immediate area around the locus. As far as he was away from the lake he could still see the gigantic obsidian rock tremble and then it seemed to start to tilt and slide away to one side, deeper into the lake.
He put his wrist to his mouth and just hoped the phone connection was still up. There was no answer to his hasty report. Dunkelzahn's last words had ordered him to retreat. Mercury was only too glad to follow his master's command. He was too close to the action and both of the fighting sides would believe him to be the enemy.
She was alone on a vast rock plateau. There was nothing else but the song. Never before had she experienced something that beautiful, never even believed it possible. The song flowed over her like pure light, warming her, and making her bones hum in happy resonance.
She spread her arms. She wanted the song to fill her with its beauty, to make her beautiful too. But in her deepest insides a dark spot persisted and then began to spread. It froze her bones and flesh. Suddenly brittle, her bones twisted the song into dissonance; it made her scream in pain. The pain spiraled her down into darkness and then she writhed on the cold stone of the altar.
"Welcome back, Lucero."
Lucero opened her eyes. Señor Oscuro stood before the altar, a smile on his bearded face.
"I was right. You are the one who can withstand Thayla's song."
Around them the chanting of the ritual circle slowly quieted. Señor Oscuro helped her from the altar, heedless of the half-dried human blood that still covered her body. Lucero shook as she remembered the purpose that had brought her here.
"You have passed the test, Lucero," the man soothed. "You won't be sacrificed."
Lucero awoke with her arms flailing around as if she could push Señor Oscuro's hands aside. For long moments she panted, not recognizing the moon-lit quarters she had been assigned after her test. Then dream and reality separated. Cold, sticky sweat covered her. She rose and found her way to the small bath room. Its lights turned on automatically as the sensors registered her presence. She squinted against the sudden glare and turned the shower on. As the water poured over her she closed her eyes. She didn't want to catch her reflection in the mirrored wall. She knew each of the runic scars that covered her body. The leftovers from years of blood magic. For a long time she had taken pride in them. They were the willingly paid price for the power she had wielded.
Now the scars were just ugly and a reminder of her weakened magic.
There was no place for weakness in the ritual circle. A few months ago, blood loss and the backlash of her spells had harmed her irrevocably and fated her to be a blood sacrifice herself. Too many initiated mages were waiting to take her place. Only the fact that she had passed that test delayed her death. For now, Señor Oscuro found her still useful.
Lucero slipped into a white robe and felt marginally better, cleaner. Barefoot, she padded across the hardwood floor to the wall. At a touch of her hand the floor-length door glided to the side. She entered the open balcony on the side of the teocalli. The stone under her bare feet retained the heat of the day, and despite the late hour the August night had not brought any respite from the heat. She could see the lake and the lights of the relentlessly working excavation teams. From this distance, none of the noise surrounding the dig reached her. Beyond the lake, the old tower's dark silhouette stabbed into the sky.
The object of all that activity, she knew, was an artefact of great magical potential. Since she became aware of it she had felt its lure, the implied promise that she could regain her lost power if she only got access to it.
She gave in to her longing and switched her perception to the astral space. The night lit up with the many vibrant auras of life. But everything paled beside the powerful aura of the excavated locus. The beauty of its pulsing, golden veins took her breath away. For long moments she could only stare and drink in the awe-inspiring impression.
With alarming clarity, it reminded her of the even brighter beauty she had experienced on the metaplanes, the purifying beauty of Thayla's song. She wanted to hear that song again, to bathe in that light. The longing was so strong that tears came to her eyes.
Señor Oscuro will use me to destroy that beauty!
But it didn't matter, at least not enough; she wanted to be back, she wanted to hear Thayla's song.
A loud boom shattered the relative silence of the night, followed by more detonations. The aura of the locus wavered and made Lucero recoil in sudden fright. Several small lights of people's auras winked out of existence. Then the noises of rocket missiles and the answering bellows of guns became muted as the astral space seemed to catch fire. Countless spells flashed with the speed of thought in the direction of the excavation site. Lucero cried out as she recognized them as harmful combat spells. As if this wasn't dismaying enough, a swarm of spirits appeared and started to attack the mages and shamans at the site.
While she still stood shell-shocked, frantically searching for a way to offer her remaining magic to the defense, a silent shadow dropped beside her onto the balcony. With a cry, she backed into her rooms. She fumbled to cast a defense spell as a powerful punch against her back sent her sprawling to the floor. She doubled over in agony. More intruders had waited inside. With a roar a blood spirit appeared over her, obviously one commanded to guard her life. One, no, two intruders drew swords and met its attack. They showed no sign that its aura of fear affected them. A third, the one from the balcony, stood over her, his own sword half-drawn.
"No blood!" snapped one of the men dodging the spirit's attacks.
Her adversary released the hilt of the sword and brought his stiff hand down into a slashing arc against her throat. Lucero tasted blood and couldn't draw breath anymore. The last thing she saw was the men defeating the blood spirit.
Mercury removed the hook from the rusty ladder and started to climb down. The series of explosions continued. He shot a quick glance at the lake. The locus sunk deeper into the lake's ground. He couldn't see if or how much the *locus* was damaged. During some of the explosion flashes he could see shadows in groups of three or four who made a stealthy approach to the Aztechnology Defence positions.
A rung broke under his weight and the clangs of it hitting the ladder several times while falling down sounded far too loud despite the combat noises. He froze for a moment and then continued.
A small flotilla of armored helicopters arrived from the teocalli. They were firing rockets of their own into the hellish melee and made strafing runs at the grounds where the mysterious attackers were advancing. Some of the missiles' launching sites fell silent, although combat drones were still arriving in terrifying numbers and mindlessly pitting themselves against the drones sent by the Aztechnology forces.
Some of the helicopters started to sweep the area with search lights trying to find the enemy footsoldiers. A few times they opened fire at the ground, obviously trying to gun someone down. Mercury didn't spare the time to see if the barrages did more than throw up sand. He continued to climb.
Several detonations shook the foot of the hill where the tower stood, almost at the same time. The tower swayed. Mercury put his feet on the sides of the ladder and started to slide down. It was a controlled fall of nearly one hundred meters, faster and faster. The friction heat on his palms reached pain levels but the tower's swaying hadn't stopped. More detonations – Mercury realized that these could not have been caused by rockets, the explosives must have been planted before – and the whole hill with the tower on it was in motion and sliding towards the lake. Before the landslide reached the water, the tower tipped over. Mercury leapt into the void, just hoping that he would land on a tree or shrubs to break his fall.
He was both unlucky and lucky. The searchlights of a helicopter caught him. A hastily fired missile missed him. But it hit the tower full on, and iron and concrete fragments burst in every direction. He cried out as he was hit by several of them. His jump became an uncontrolled plunge. But he did indeed land on a tree.
The upper foliage buffered his impact, then he fell from branch to branch. Somehow he managed to cover his head and his face with his arms while falling but his limbs took painful hits on his way down. The impact on the ground drove the air from his lungs.
Mercury hardly took the time to draw a breath before calling on his magic to suppress the pain. He had to move. The hill ground was still sliding. He jumped to his feet and fell into a stumbling trot down the slope, away from the lake and the raging battle. His hands checked for injuries and which of his equipment was still left to him. The holster with his Walther PB 120 and the belt with his darts had survived. Some shards had pierced his only lightly armored night suit whose purpose had been stealth rather than protection anyway. The wounds were bleeding. This wasn't much of a cause for worry in itself, but together with the other punishment his body had suffered in the last minutes his physical reserves were running low. Without his magic he would be in serious trouble. He hoped that he had also a bit of luck left. Without being detected, he needed to reach his car that he had left at a good mile's distance from his position.
He kept to the shadows of the trees. But there weren't enough of them to keep him covered all the time and the helicopter was aready cirling over his position. The missile impacts and fires might hide his heat signature to the helicopter's sensors but it probably wouldn't last.
A red shine with sharp, long shadows flooded the battle field. The teocalli itself had now become a target of the attack. Several levels of the gigantic building were already on fire. Especially the top platform was being hit by more rockets. Mercury didn't waste any more thoughts on the Azzies' plight. The light made it harder for him to hide among the sparse vegetation.
Suddenly, the helicopter peppered his surroundings with rail gun fire but Mercury managed to reach a thicker patch of trees. Then the helicopter touched down to release a group of soldiers who fanned out in his direction. Hunting.
Mercury risked a quick glance into the astral and found the ghostly likeness of a robed man hovering above the tree line. The helicopter crew had brought a mage, and he was astrally projecting to find their quarry. Mercury wanted to curse. But in that very instance a spirit flashed near and attacked the glowing figure, mage and spirit bound up in the deadly dance of astral combat. Mercury heaved a silent breath of relief. At least for a time he wouldn't have to worry about the mage. But there was still the cat-and-mouse game between the other Aztechnology soldiers and him. They were many and he was only one, and wounded at that. But while they lumbered through the underbrush, he could move as silently as a shadow. He would need that advantage because his chances of escaping on foot and actually getting away from this place were slim. His wounds were slowing him down to much.
So instead he readied a dart and circled back. Maybe he could use the helicopter for escape. At least they wouldn't expect this move.
He came close enough to see a rigger-pilot and the slumped form of a man he took to be the mage. Whether he was still in astral space or already dead he couldn't say. To be certain, the mage had to be his first target before he could even attempt to subdue the pilot. But before Mercury could put his plan into action, a rocket seemed to appear out of thin air and thundered into the aircraft. For a few moments Mercury could see the rigger writhing in the fireball before burning to ash.
He didn't know what prickle of sensation warned him. Whirling around and drawing his pistol in a quick move was one move. He fired twice at the hulking mass of a man bearing down on him. None of the shots had any visible effect.
The man looked mostly human but the proportions of his head, torso and limbs were skewed. And he was fast, almost as fast as Mercury who barely managed to avoid being overrun. This enemy was heavily cybered. A quick glance at his aura confirmed his guess. He had never before seen someone who appeared almost like a shadow in his astral perception, his outline illuminated by a firework of bespellments. This one was indeed far more machine than man, kept alive by powerful magic. Mercury had heard about such creatures – they were aptly called cyberzombies.
The man bared his teeth in a vicious grin at Mercury. Almost leisurely but still far quicker than an ordinary man he once again closed the distance between Mercury and himself. Although he had an arsenal of weapons hanging from his belt he didn't bother with them.
He knows, thought Mercury, that I can't escape him.
Nonetheless he loosened a volley of throwing darts at the cyberzombie. Maybe the paralysing toxin would slow him down. But the hulking creature simply batted most of them away, and those few that hit he didn't seem to feel at all.
More men appeared in the clearing. For a moment Mercury feared that the rest of the soldier group had arrived. But these ones didn't wear the tan uniform of the Jaguar Guards. They wore black, their swords drawn and their faces masked – must be the mysterious attackers.
One of them, dropping an empty rocket launcher, snarled in disgust: "Abomination!" As one man, they attacked the cyberzombie.
Mercury fell back, glad to be ignored for now. The fight didn't last long. He would have believed that the cyberzombie would easily dispatch just three opponents armed with only small arms but the ninjas proved him wrong.
They matched the cyberzombie in speed and worked as a unit. Whenever the cyberzombie focused on one, the other two moved in. Their shuriken seemed to have a far more potent toxin than Mercury's because after only two hits from the throwing stars the cyberzombie's movements became uncoordinated. After that, the end came fast. They literally cut the cyberzombie to pieces. One picked up the severed head and threw it away into the darkness.
Then they turned to Mercury. He backed away, feeling the blood loss keenly. He showed them his empty hands.
"I'm not your enemy," he told them.
For a few moments they seemed to consider it but then someone said softly: "The demon doesn't need witnesses."
It was the signal for the three to spread out and surround him. Mercury wanted to curse. In his weakened state his chances were slim against these skilled opponents. Nonetheless, giving up was not an option.
Veering sharply to the right, he tried to break through the circle. He needed to put distance between him and them for an escape. But the man to his right met his frenzied attack and didn't give ground. A fraction of a second later the other two engaged him and then all he could do was to dodge blades and darts. It couldn't last.
A dart pierced his right shoulder and he felt coldness spreading from the small wound. He stumbled in surprise and then tried to continue dodging his adversaries' attacks. They changed tactics immediately. Instead of pressing the attack they just darted forward in turns and kept him off balance. Mercury tried to call on his inherent magic to neutralize the poison. But exhausted as he was, all he could do was to slow its spreading down. His limbs went numb and heavy. He never felt it when he hit the ground.
A few of the trid screens in Dunkelzahn's lair were displaying satellite photos of San Marco. A clearly marked area looked like the aftermath of a war. As far as his own and the government's experts could tell, that was exactly what it was. The giant San Marcos *teocalli* was a smoking ruin, the old amusement park was burnt and riddled by shell craters. Mud slides seemed to have partly filled up the lake.
Air elementals sent to scout the place brought back disturbing reports. The astral space there reflected the destruction. None of them could get clear impressions of what had happened. Too much magical energy in a short time had created something like static, a smokescreen of spent spells. Just one thing was clear. The magical battle there had been even fiercer than the conventional attack.
Dunkelzahn rarely flicked a glance at the screens. For a casual observer he might seem relaxed but his staff could read him well enough to give him a wide berth. A brooding dragon was best not disturbed.
He had retreated to his estate on Prince Edward Isle. The rebuilding in the White House had already begun but was far from finished. He didn't intend to spend more time than necessary in human shape. His lair here accommodated his natural size.
Already the Aztlan government had directed vague accusations at him and the UCAS. Although no one took that all too seriously. The general term used was 'terrorist attack'. The rebels of Yucatan had spoken of a great victory against the corrupt Aztechnology corporation but such a strike was plainly beyond their abilities. They would have directed it at a target that made more sense, anyway.
The problem was that this site was only of any importance to a few who might have an inkling of what had been hidden there. And none of those who would oppose Aztech acquiring the *locus* would have used such brutal, blatant, no-holds-barred approach.
As far as I know. Dunkelzahn half-rose and stretched to his full length. Either I seriously miscalculated one of the known parties – and I don't believe that - or there is someone new who has intervened in the conflict.
The chime of the door interrupted the quietness of the great chamber. It was Brooks who brought the scheduled update. Dunkelzahn regarded her balefully. It wasn't her fault but the dealing with this crisis for the last few days coupled with the lack of reliable intelligence had been doing bad things to his temper.
Is there anything new in your report, Brooks? A hint of his irritation crept into his mental voice and the elf stiffened. But she was too much of a professional to back away.
"No, sir, nothing of substance. The specialists are trying to profile likely candidates. But they are drawing blanks. It just doesn't add up. Jane-in-the-Box tried a few data runs against Aztechnology but they have either closed down their systems or are on high alert. McFadden wishes to try anew to find QuickSilver by ritual magic, sir."
Ryan Mercury hadn't reported in and Dunkelzahn found it worrisome. Chances were that he had become collateral damage of the strike just when he needed his best agent more than ever. His plans were unraveling through this new development and he didn't like it.
See to it, Brooks. I need to...
Brooks' hand flew to her ear where the ear knob of her tactical computer rested. Her eyes widened.
"Master, we have contact. QuickSilver is at a small private clinic in ... Las Vegas? How did he get there?"
Dunkelzahn felt a wholly unfamiliar rush of relief.
Bring him home, Brooks. Now!
"Yes, sir." She sprinted from his chamber, all the while excitedly muttering orders that her headware transmitted to her people.
